


Murder By Office

by casstayinmyass



Category: Clue (1985), The Office (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Inappropriate Humor, Michael Scott's Humour, Murder, Murder Mystery, Rivalry, Season/Series 02, Toby Hating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 08:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Michael Scott remembers how much he really loves the 1985 cult classic movie Clue, and decides he's going to invite everyone to a "team building" evening based around the film's storyline. The expected chaos ensues.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> Based in and around season 2. Whenever the text is in bold, they are being interviewed by the camera. 
> 
> ((for the part it is referenced, I know Hamilton came waaay after season 2 aired, but this is fanfiction. So.))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael makes a proposition.

**"So, this is just a little thing I put together. You know, every team needs team building once in a while,"** Michael smiled to the camera.

"A team building exercise," Jan's doubtful voice came over Michael's office speaker.

"Yessir. Ma'am. Jan."

"At an old, dusty house in the middle of nowhere?"

"Uhh, well... I like to think of it as a bit of history. It was the actual house used in the filming of Clue."

"Clue?"

**"I was just watching Edward Scissorhands the other night and the Corpse Bride came on right after, and I thought to myself, wow-- I forgot how much I love Tim Curry."**

"I mean, Jan, that it is a great place to do a few team building exercises. It's big, it's scenic-- don't you think it sounds like fun?"

"I think it sounds like unsafe working conditions."

"Weeeell, you sound like unsafe... working... okay look, this is going to be awesome, alright? Please just trust me? Is that so hard to do?"

"Michael..." Jan sighed in exasperation, "Why now?"

Michael shook his head, shrugging. "Why... not now?" There was a long pause over the line, and another sigh came through.

"I just don't see the use of this. How is this productive in any way?"

"The rallying of our troops will reinvigorate our lust for sales--"

"You know what? Fine, I'll approve it. But I want a detailed log of what your exercises consist of."

Michael pulled a fist, and clapped his hands. "You're the best!"

"Goodbye, Michael."

"I LOVE YOU!"

"Goodbye Michael."

**"And... Jan being my girlfriend and all, of course approved it."**

"Alright everyone!" Michael clapped his hands a few times, garnering everyone's attention in the office. "I've got a very special announcement. It is a _very_ good day!"

"Are you resigning?" Stanley asked.

"No Stanley, I am not resigning."

"Then it is not a good day," Stanley replied, and got up to go get more coffee. Michael blinked, and nodded.

"Okay, well tomorrow, we are all taking a team building day!"

"YES!" Dwight shouted, punching the air, "THAT IS SO EXCITING!" Michael looked at him, and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, well it is, and it's a very special one because..." he looked around, "You're going to have to dress up, and use fake names."

 **"I don't... know what Michael's playing at,"** Ryan told the camera, **"I just know that I don't get paid enough for this."**

"So, uh-- has anyone seen the 1985 movie Clue?" A couple of hands raised, and Michael looked around. "Well, this is going to be a night just like that, full of mystery... intrigue... and murder!"

"Murder?" Pam asked softly, exchanging glances with Jim.

"Yeah, you know... _murdah!_ It's a great team building exercise." Michael joked. Nobody laughed.

"It's against company policy to kill someone, Michael," Toby started to say, and Michael whipped around to him.

"You know what, Toby? Just shut up. Okay?" He massaged his eyes. "God, looks like all of you have to take a good long fishing trip in the lake of senses of humour!" He winced. "Yeah, that wasn't so good. Anyway, wear something formal, I will email you your pseudonyms tonight, and I will see you all tomorrow, 6:00 PM at Hill House, off route 41."

"Where's that?" Dwight asked.

"Off route 41," Jim offered, and Dwight pursed his lips at his coworker.

"It's my daughter's birthday tomorrow," Stanley said.

"I'm also not able to make it," Kelly said apologetically, "My cousin is getting a serious operation that she has a one in ten chance of surviving."

"Okay," Michael sighed, "Those who do not have lame excuses, I will see you tomorrow!"

 **"Am I hurt that my coworkers don't want to indulge in my fantasies?"** Michael shrugged at the camera. **"A little. Cause I indulge theirs every time they ask me if they're getting a raise."**

"You lookin' forward to night of mystery, intrigue, and murdah?!" Jim smirked at Pam as he approached, doing his best impression of their boss. She grabbed her jacket, grinning.

"I'd rather stay home, but hey-- if corporate approved this, it must be a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I'm actually pretty surprised by that," Jim laughed.

"Hey," Michael cut in, "I'm gonna need to talk to Pam for a minute. Hermano a hermano."

"Man to man?" Jim asked doubtfully.

"Yeah that, please leave Jim." Jim waved at Pam, and she waved back before turning to Michael. "Okay Pam. I'm giving you a very special duty. You are going to be Yvette the maid."

"I don't know what that me-"

"You are going to be the maid, which means I will give you a costume and you will need to arrive earlier than everyone else. Comprende?"

"Um... sure," she nodded, and Michael smiled at the camera.

"Yay! We're all excited!"


	2. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening begins.

"So this here... is Hill House," Michael told the camera, conducting a tour as he entered, "This is where the evening will happen. I sent out an email last night-- not the same as the letters in the movie, but it's fine-- saying all this stuff about blackmail and a dinner party." He walked in, finding Pam in the library, standing around in her maid uniform.

"Evening Yvette," Michael came in, "You have your... instructions." He looked back at the camera, stifling a laugh.

"Unfortunately," she replied, tugging her skirt down.

 **"A dinner party,"** Meredith told the camera, **"Always has booze. So I'm looking forward to it. And I think we're getting paid overtime to be there."**

 **"Kill me. Please,"** Ryan told the camera, **"If there is a murder tonight, I hope it's mine."**

 **"Yeah, I wish I could call in sick,"** Toby sighed to the camera, **"But... HR has to be there for team building things. Just in case."**

 **"Do I have better things to be doing?"** Oscar asked the camera, **"Yes. Of course. We all do. I don't think one person is into this whole fake name thing."**

Dwight adjusted his deerstalker hat, and held up a pipe. **"I'm 'Professor Plum'."** He used hand quotations, and wiggled his eyebrows. **"I'm a professor, and I like plums."** With his other hand, he brought a plum up, taking a bite. **"My real name is Dwight Schrute. Will anybody know that tonight? No. Nobody is supposed to know who I really am, so I'm wearing this hat. I'm like a magician-- they'll never know it's me."**

"Oh hey, Dwight, you made it," Jim said in the parking lot of Hill House, and Dwight ripped his hat off, scrunching it up and tossing it into the bushes with an aggravated noise.

 **"Yeah, I mean, it's not how I would normally spend my Friday night,"** Jim told the camera, **"But it looks like an okay time, I'll admit. I haven't been to a dinner party since college. And that wasn't really a dinner party."**

 **"I heard that Pam is going to be dressed up like a maid,"** Kevin told the camera, then he grinned. **_"Nice."_**

 **“Oh... was that dinner thing today?”** Creed asked, taking a bite of a sandwich. **“Oh. Okay.”** He stayed seated.

"I don't want to be here," Angela snapped, and got out of the car. Meredith got out the other side, and Phyllis got out of the back.

"I think it'll be a fun time," Phyllis smiled bashfully, and Angela whipped around to glare at her.

"No, it's going to be stupid." Phyllis looked down.

Everyone approached the door, and inside, Michael grinned at the camera. "Okay, here we go!" He cleared his throat, and straightened up, opening the door. "Good evening, ma- okay, you were all supposed to arrive one at a time, I specifically said that as a footnote in the email, but alright! You're all here, awesome. Welcome!"

He opened his arms, and everyone came in. It _was_ impressive; it was a huge house, with a grand wooden staircase and old, 50s style furnishing.

 **"It was amazing,"** Jim nodded to the camera, **"Amazing how much company party money he must have spent to rent the place."**

"May I take your coat, Mrs. White?" Michael asked Angela, and she scowled, giving it to him. Pam smiled as she took Jim's coat to hang, and Jim tried his hardest not to focus on the costume she was wearing. Michael rubbed his bottom lip, and turned to the rest. "Miss Scarlet," he looked to Meredith, "Mrs. Peacock," he turned to Phyllis, "Mr. Green," he said to Jim, "Professor Plum," he said to Dwight, who looked at the camera and winked, "Colonel Mustard," he nodded at Oscar.

"Where's Kevin?" Jim asked.

"I'm over here," Kevin waved, and Michael shook his head.

"No, no! That is not Kevin, that is Mr. Fuchsia!"

"Mr. Fuchsia?" Jim asked. 

 **"I... credit myself on being a very creative person,"** Michael told the camera, **"And uh, I had to get creative with the names, because there's more people here than characters in Clue."**

“Sir Teal, in the house!" Michael pointed at Ryan.

“You sound like a pimp,” Kevin whispered to him, and Ryan nodded.

“Thanks.”

"And…”Michael went on, “Aw, I wish Stanley was here. Or should I say, Mr. Black?" Everyone stared at him, and his smile faltered. "Okay, aaand, Toby is here as well. Alright. Dinner time!"

"Don't I get an alias?" Toby asked quietly, expression indifferent.

"You don't deserve an alias, Toby," Michael responded, then turned, leading everyone into the dining room. "I am Wadsworth the butlah!" he announced in a terrible British accent, "Do you want to know what I do?!"

"No," Oscar muttered.

"I buttle sah!" Michael shouted, and cracked up. Jim and a few others offered a couple of laughs, but Dwight strangely did nothing.

"Aren't you gonna laugh at Michael's jokes?" Jim whispered to him, "You always laugh."

"First of all, _Mr. Green_ , we haven't been formally introduced so I don't know why you're whispering to me. Second, I am a serious professor of serious psychiatry, and would not laugh at such a disgrace as _Wadsworth's_ attempts at wit. Oh my god, are those monkey's brains? I love those." He reached over him for a dish, and Jim looked at the camera.

"This is nice," Meredith commented, yanking up her tight scarlet dress and downing her second glass of champagne, "I like this whole open bar type thing." Angela shook her head beside her, and Kevin leaned in as Pam came around.

"I like your dress, Pam."

"Thanks, Kevin," Pam smiled, setting down his soup.

Kevin looked at the camera. **"Nice."**

"So!" Michael interrupted everyone, rubbing his hands together at the front of the table, "Now that you're all here, I guess you're probably wondering where your host is!"

"Aren't you our host?" Phyllis asked.

"Aha!" Michael held his finger up, "That, my dear Phyllis, is an excellent question!"

 **"There's this great part in the movie where... Wadsworth announces the host. And everyone's kind of freaking out, because he's this really weird guy, and it's just this great moment-"** Michael explained to the camera with a wistful smile, **"Aaand I got a close buddy of mine to help me out."**

Suddenly, someone ran into the room, and Jim's smile dropped, as did mostly everyone's at the table.

"Mike!"

"Packer! Pacman!"

"And all you pansies," he laughed loudly, looking at everyone, and Jim shook his head.

 **"Well, there's the whole night ruined** ," he said to the camera.

"What's he doing here?" Angela asked, lips tightly pursed.

"He's the host!" Michael slapped Packer's back, "Don't you get it?! He's Mr. Body!"

"That I am," Packer narrowed his eyes at everyone, "And if one of you ninnylicking frog turds steps outta line, I'll--" Michael patted him on the shoulder, and whispered something. "Oh... well, I'm just your host, not your leader, so I'll just be... hosting you and stuff." He raised a fist, and sat down at the head of the table. "Where's that hot secretary of yours?!"

Pam stopped on her way out from the kitchen, and looked at the camera.

"She's... oh, Yvette is on her way," Michael nodded, looking down awkwardly. Pam came and served the host his food, and then sat down beside Jim, stealing something off his plate. They giggled, and Dwight raised his hand.

"I'd like to report bad manners, the maid and Mr. Green are fooling around at the table and taking food from each other."

Michael shook his head in exasperation. "That's... that's fine, don't be such a square, Dw- Professor Plum." Dwight deflated, and everyone looked around, an awkward silence filling the room.

"Well! Why don't we head back to the study, where everything will be explained," Michael wiggled his fingers, and Kevin frowned.

"But you explained everything yesterday," he said, and Michael shook his head.

"That wasn't the official thing, that was an introduction, this is-- part of the script, okay?"

"There's a script?" Kevin whispered to Phyllis, who shrugged. They all followed to the study, the first room on the right side of the house, and made themselves comfortable on the sofas. Michael was freaking out because he was actually touching the desk where the real Wadsworth stood.

"Now... for the blackmail," Michael opened up an envelope, cackling evilly, and Meredith looked around.

"Blackmail? You mean you've got stuff on us?" She looked legitimately frightened.

"I do," Michael grinned, "Thank you, Pam."

Pam looked around. "You're welcome?" she responded.

"Uh, that means you can leave us for now."

"No, I'd rather stay," Pam said, rubbing her arms.

"O-kay..." Michael cleared his throat, and took out some sheets of paper he had typed up the day before. "First, we will look at Colonel Mustard!"

"Oh, crap," Kevin muttered, and Oscar turned.

"No, I'm Colonel Mustard," he whispered, and Kevin nodded.

"Oh, okay."

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face, and turned back to his boss, waiting for whatever great information he apparently had on him.

"Colonel Mustard..." Michael said, looking out at everyone, "Is gay."

Oscar shook his head, rolling his eyes, and everyone murmured at the same time variations of "yeah, we know." Michael looked at the camera and smiled, and took out another folder.

 **"I had the genius idea to reveal a bunch of embarrassing stuff about them, and it totally works because then I'm going to say it was Packer."** Michael grinned at the camera. **"Of course, it's Mr. Body in the movie, but I was the one responsible for all the research here."**

"Mrs. White once threw up in the men's bathroom because she ate bad leftovers for lunch and all the stalls in the women's were full."

Angela gasped, glaring. "How did you know that?" Michael held up his folder.

"Blackmail, that's how." Michael pulled out another one, read it, then looked straight at the camera. "Toby is a rapist."

"This is ridiculous," Packer stood up, "I thought you said this was gonna be a fun night of naked chicks and booze." Meredith began to stand up with a shrug and unzip her dress, but Pam urged her back down.

"You... said that," Michael blinked.

"Well I think this is a waste of time," Packer said, getting up, "Can we do the weapon thing now?"

"Yeah, just..." Michael closed his eyes. "Yeah."

Packer brought in a bunch of boxes, and passed them out. "A little gift for my favourite brown nosing tit toddies."

"What are they?" Phyllis asked, and Packer glared at her.

"Open it, you dumb bitch!"

"Okay," Michael cut in, "That's... that wasn't very nice..."

"Fine, open it, you dumb woman."

Jim looked at the camera.

They all began to open their boxes. Oscar's box held a candlestick, while Phyllis' held a rope. Jim's held a lead pipe, and Angela's held a knife. Meredith got a wrench, and Dwight got a gun. Toby accepted the fact that he wasn't going to receive a package. Kevin moved closer to Jim, and looked down as everyone set their weapons down in front of them.

"I'll share yours."

"Wait, where's Mr. Teal?" Michael asked, peering around.

"I was in the bathroom," Ryan came back in, sitting down.

 **"I wasn't in the bathroom. I was sitting in the dining room, contemplating my life,"** Ryan told the camera. He paused. **"Wait, they did the blackmail part and I missed it?"** He shook his head. **"Yeah, of course I've seen Clue. I hated it."**

"Okay, this is the good part," Michael said. "In your hands, you each hold a lethal weapon!"

"Wow," Dwight mumbled, "Alright, this is exciting."

Ryan backed out of the room slowly, before Packer grabbed him by the tie, yanked him back in, and slammed the door.

"Yeah, they are lethal! And..." he grins, cracking his knuckles and looking over at Michael. Michael didn't like the glint in his eye, and he frowned. "...If one of you kills this fairy-ass queercake, we can all walk away and go home."

"Uhmmm," Michael began to laugh, "Oh, that's good. That is good, my friend. Really keeping up with the story! It's just, um, I took that part out, because--"

"Just do it," Packer growled, going over to the lights, "And we can all be rid of him for good."

"Okay, yeah, wait, wait, this is not--" Michael held up his hands, but the light was turned out. There was a bump, a shriek, and a gunshot, and suddenly, the lights were turned back on by Toby.

"It's not Michael!" Pam said, huddling into Jim. Jim unconsciously put an arm around her tightly, then slowly let go.

"Thank GOD!" Michael laughed, looking around, then looked down to see Packer lying on the carpet in a pool of his own blood. "Oh shit."


	3. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to shit at Hill House.

**"Did it go according to plan?"** Michael leaned back in his chair, addressing the camera, **"Um... no, not exactly. But here at Dunder-Mifflin, we like to improvise."**

Michael stood in the corner, rocking back and forth and looking like he was about to throw up.

"This is crazy!" Oscar shouted.

"Insane," Meredith muttered, "And really illegal. Very. I like the law." She excused herself.

“I’ve gotta call the police, guys,” Toby said, beginning to pull out his phone, and Michael pointed at him.

“No! No, nobody will be calling the police until we figure out who did this ourselves.”

“Michael, someone died, I can’t just—“

“Anyone who calls the police is fired!” Michael announced, and groans erupted.

"You're not gonna fire me," Toby said, opening his arms with the same bored look on his face. Michael whipped around and pointed at him.

"Watch me."

"What are you planning to do, Michael?!" Pam asked.

"Pam, you are still Yvette the maid, we're in--" Michael turned around from the corner.

"Someone just got killed, I'm Pam the Receptionist."

"Wow, that's... boring. Okay, well-- person who killed our host, I hope you're happy, because you just ruined the evening's fun."

 **"I hate being the bad guy, but sometimes you have to pull out the big guns, and be the boss,"** Michael told the camera.

"--Even thought it was pretty awesome you stayed on script, because that totally happens in the movie!" Michael grinned.

"He's actually dead," Ryan whispered, kneeling beside Packer, "Holy shit."

"EVERYBODY KEEP AWAY FROM THE BODY!" Dwight shouted, tackling Ryan to the ground, "We are going to conduct orderly interviews, I want everyone to line up outside this room and I will call you in one at a time."

"Dwight-" Michael started to sigh.

"Everyone?" Angela asked Dwight pointedly under her breath, and he looked down at her with conviction.

"Everyone."

Her nostrils flared, and she stomped out of the room, going to open the front door.

"Wait! We can't leave until we find the killer," Pam said.

"But I want to go home," Angela gritted out, and Michael stepped up.

"If you leave, I'll say you killed them both."

"I'll make you regret this," Angela bit back. Michael raised his eyebrows, looking around.

"That sounds like murderer-talk to me! Angela did it, Angela's the--"

"No Michael, I think we will all make you regret this," Oscar interjected, and everyone's head nodded slowly. Michael scoffed.

"Okay look people, this is murder. Like a real dead body, with real blood and stuff. And, he was my friend!"

"He tried to get you killed," Jim pointed out.

"I said _was_ ," Michael retorted. "It is not my fault that body is there, and no one-- I repeat, no one, is leaving until we find out whose fault this is."

"Technically Michael, it's your fault for inviting us all here," Toby spoke up, rubbing his forehead.

"Uh, technically, Toby, you're divorced."

"I mean, how does that have anything to do with-"

"We're going to investigate!" Michael called out, "We're going to get into teams by drawing matches and investigate the house." Ryan shook his head, because this was just like the movie and Michael was stupidly obsessed.

"Well, I think Dwight's idea of interviewing everyone is a good one," Toby offered again, and Michael held a hand up.

"Nobody asked you."

They returned to the study, still reeling.

"This is intense," Kevin said.

"Well... who had the gun originally?" Jim asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Dwight," Oscar said.

"It wasn't him!" Angela blurted, and everyone looked over at her, Pam frowning.

"But weren't you gunning for Michael's job?" Jim asked Dwight, rubbing his chin.

"No, that was-"

"That's _right_!" Michael nodded, looking over at Dwight. "You did try to take my job that one time. You could have been trying to shoot me after all, and accidentally hit Packer."

"And it _was_ Dwight who had that gun," Meredith said slowly, "It's an easy way for you to shoot him."

"Joke's on you Meredith, because I don't need a gun to shoot people," Dwight smiled, pulling something out from his pocket. "I brought my spud gun, in case things got a little rowdy tonight."

 **"Yeah, it totally wasn't Dwight,"** Ryan told the camera.

Michael looked down at the body of Todd Packer, then up into the camera. "Alright, we're going on the search. Everyone in the kitchen, now!"

They all filed out to the hallway then headed to the kitchen, where Michael got some matches from a drawer, snapped them to different sizes, and arranged them in his fist. He left one out, moving his hand away whenever Toby tried to take one. Once each person had a match, Michael spoke up again. “Good! Compare sizes, and those will be your searching pairs.”

Everyone milled around, checking the other matches. Dwight came up and compared his to Michael’s three times, until Michael finally told him to stop, they didn't have the same. Jim compared his to Pam’s, who unfortunately had a shorter match, and she ended up with Angela while Jim ended up with Dwight. Meredith and Kevin ended up with one another, and Oscar and Phyllis got the same length as well. Ryan kept walking around, comparing his to as many people as he could before…

“Oh wow!” Michael exclaimed, grinning, “Look at that! Crazy that we’d be paired up, huh?” Ryan looked at the camera.

“Rigged,” Kevin muttered under his breath, and Michael held up a finger.

“I am _personally_ offended that you would think I’d do that,” he said, then turned back around. “Alright, let’s go shortest to the attic, longest to the cellar.”

“Um,” Pam put up her hand, holding up the shortest match. “I really think we should go down, even though mine’s not very long.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what she said, and fine Pam, longest to the attic and shortest to the basement then!”

Everyone began to disperse into their respective search groups, and Toby walked back to the study, sitting down. 

 **"Yes, I left Toby out of the investigation,”** Michael said to the camera, **“Cause in the movie, when someone is left alone in a room, they get killed."**

“Don’t try any funny business,” Dwight told Jim, “I have no qualm with telling everyone it was you.” Jim put his hands up and smiled at him.

 **“Do I think it was Jim?”** Dwight asked the camera, **“Probably. And I say probably because I’m not authorized to tell you who the official suspects are yet. It could also have been Meredith. Or Oscar. Everyone is under suspicion. I guess we’ll only know when someone else succumbs to the murderous rage of the killer.”** He slowly started to grin.

“This is silly,” Phyllis said, heading into the ballroom with Oscar, “It was obviously one of us, there can’t be someone else in the house. Michael was the only one with the key!”

“You don’t think I know that?” Oscar huffed, “This whole thing has been silly, and if it weren’t for Michael, we wouldn’t all be witnesses to a murder.”

“Oh, gosh…” Phyllis murmured, “Do you think we’ll all lose our jobs?”

“If we don’t lose our lives first,” Oscar looked at her. Suddenly, they heard a creak behind them, and screamed and clutched each other… until they saw Kevin waving, Meredith not far behind.

“Sorry. We’re just on our way over to the Billiard’s room.” Oscar and Phyllis breathed out in relief, and got back to searching. Upstairs, Dwight and Jim climbed the first flight of stairs with Michael and Ryan, who would be investigating the bedrooms.

“Sir Teal, after you,” Michael extended his arm, and Ryan sighed, brushing past him into the hallway on the second floor.

“I really don’t think we should be doing the whole alias thing anymore, Michael. Someone’s dead.” Meanwhile, Dwight looked at Jim with distaste, then down at the others.

“Question: Wadsworth, wouldn’t it benefit you to have a _professor_ by your side-"

“God Dwight, the charade’s over, no more fake names!” Michael shouted, “Someone died, how insensitive are you?” Dwight closed his mouth, and stopped at the foot of the staircase up to the dark attic.

“After you,” Jim said, holding out a hand just as Michael had done and sticking the other in his pocket.

“No thanks,” Dwight muttered with a mocking smile.

"Why not? If I was going to attack you, I'd do it from the front."

"False, 80% of attacks are done from behind, and I don’t feel like getting murdered tonight.” Jim shrugged, going first, but as he did so, Dwight shoved himself in front, turning around and squinting at Jim as he walked backward.

 **“In life or death situations, you really have to show the other person who’s boss,”** Dwight said to the camera, **“It’s kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. We’re in the fighting pits now, and I’m out for blood.”** He smirked. **“Evidently, I’m sure Jim is too.”**

Jim yawned as they entered the attic, Dwight circling around him and looking everywhere while on guard.

“If there’s anyone in here, just know that I am a purple belt in karate!” Dwight shouted.

“He is, I’d steer clear of him,” Jim added, looking around, and Dwight narrowed his eyes at his partner before turning back. As Dwight kept stalking around the room like a predator ready to attack, Jim noticed an animal head on the wall, and stifled a laugh as he got an idea; he only wished Pam was here to see it.

_“Over here, Dwight!”_

Dwight whipped around. “Jim?” Dwight studied Jim, and realized he must not have said that... he wasn't in the right spot.

_“Dwight!”_

"Who’s there?!” he asked, looking around. "…How do you know my name?"

 _“I know all about you!”_ the high voice giggled, _“I killed Packer!”_

Dwight turned again, then his eyes settled on the animal head. “No…”

 _“Oh, yes!”_ Jim stood on the other side of the room, throwing his voice to where Dwight was standing by the head. _“And you’re next!”_

 **“It’s a party trick of mine,”** Jim told the camera, **“Along with doing voices. Like I said earlier, I don’t go to a lot of parties, so I’m glad it finally came in handy.”**

“You couldn’t have killed him,” Dwight scoffed, “You’re… you’re a dead animal.”

 _“You’ll be a dead_ person _soon, just like Packer! Nobody will know it’s me, muahaha!”_ Jim had to fight not to break out laughing, and put on a serious face as Dwight turned to him incredulously.

“Jim, are you hearing this?”

“Hearing what?” Jim asked.

Jim smiled at the camera. **“Mr. Green one, Professor Plum zero.”**

Downstairs on the main floor, Kevin poked at one of the pool balls, watching it bump into the others. Meredith checked the windows.

“So, did you do it?”

“Did I do who?” Meredith asked, turning slowly with a frown, “Did I do someone already?”

Kevin frowned back at her. “I asked if you did _it_. Like, killed Packer.”

“Oh. Nah, I didn’t.”

“Me neither. I was busy trying to figure out what happened to my champagne glass.”

“Oh, I was busy stealing someone’s-" Meredith laughed, then stopped. “Oh. Yeah no, I didn’t do it.”

Up in the bedrooms, Michael knocked on the wall.  “Sounds hollow.”

Ryan nodded. “Probably is.”

“Ah. Maybe the killer’s hiding in there. We should knock the walls in.”

“I… don’t think we should destroy the walls, Michael. You’re only renting this place.”          

“Yes, yes good! That was a test! To see if you had my back!” Michael recovered. He cleared his throat, looking awkwardly around the otherwise empty room. “Maybe I should invoke Prison Mike, to scare him off!” he tried joking, “Or her. Her off. Of course. The killer could be a woman too! Like I always say, death doesn’t discriminate! Between the sinners and the saints, you know, it takes and it takes and it-"

“Are you quoting Hamilton?” Ryan sighed, checking behind a curtain.

“ _No_ ,” Michael said, “No, that was a little bit of a poem that I was writing… the other day… it’s very subjective, not everyone’s taste.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, I’m gonna go check the other bedroom.”  

Down in the cellar, Pam wished she had a jacket on. For a split second, she thought of going and taking Jim’s from the foyer closet, but that would be weird wouldn’t it? Of course, they’d probably laugh about it later… no no, she’d be fine.

“It sure is cold down here,” Pam smiled with a little chuckle, attempting to make conversation with Angela.

“Well maybe if you didn’t dress like such a whore, you’d be warm,” the blonde replied, pulling her sweater down. Pam’s expression changed.

“I didn’t want to wear this, Michael gave it to me!”

“So just because your boss asks you to dress like a whore, you’re going to do it? Pathetic.”

“At least I don’t have cat hair all over my clothes!” Pam retorted. It was a lame comeback, but she couldn’t think past her irritancy.

“A cat’s hair all over you means a cat’s affection,” Angela stuck her nose up, “Something you can’t ever understand.”

“I’d rather have a person’s affection, thanks. Something I’m sure you’ve never understood.” Pam waited, hoping she would get Angela to admit to her thing with Dwight. But the blonde just got very close to her, and smirked cryptically.

“Oh… you’d be surprised.”

Pam got chills, and stepped back… just as the doorbell rang, and both women jumped a little. Everyone in the house was very quiet, and Michael poked his head out of the master bedroom.

“Ugh, cockblocked!” he blurted, “If the bedroom’s a rocking, don’t come a knocking, am I right Ryan?” he joked, and Ryan stood beside him.

“Sure.”

Jim and Dwight came down, and they all gathered on the main floor in a huddle.

“We should answer it,” Pam said softly, “Whoever it is will get suspicious otherwise.”

“Maybe it’s Bob Vance, he's probably worried about me,” Phyllis said.

“If we’re very quiet, they’ll just go away,” Angela said, and the doorbell rang again.

_“Is anyone there? My car is stuck on the road and I really need to get off!”_

“That’s what she said!” Michael called, and everyone’s eyes closed, plan blown.

“Guys, I’m going to open it if no one else is,” Toby said, emerging from the study.

“Toby, you're going to sit right back down right now,” Michael said through gritted teeth. Toby shrugged, and shook his head, continuing on to the door.

“Hey,” he said, opening it to a regular looking guy. “You okay?”

“Hey man, I was just driving and my car broke down.”

 **“I did not plan that, no. I was internally screaming though, because it’s exactly what happened in the movie!”** Michael smiled at the camera, **“I mean what are the chances? I took it as a solid sign from God that the night was supposed to happen. And none of us were going to go to jail for manslaughter.”**

The man at the door paused, seeing everyone gather. “Sorry, I, uh… didn’t mean to interrupt your party.”

“No, it’s fine,” Toby said.

“Uh no, it’s not fine,” Michael cut in, “We could’ve all been doing something very important in here when you rang the bell, like trying to figure out who killed our host and what we should do with the body!”

“W-what?”

"Hypothetically," Kevin murmured, then winked at the guy.

Toby rubbed his eyes. “Look, if they’re not going to do anything, I can offer you some help with your-"

“Ohh, you don’t want help from that guy, he’s a serial child kidnapper,” Michael grinned, pushing past him to help the guy in.

"Well…" Toby mumbled in resignation, but was ushered out of the way.

“I was just kidding about the whole body thing, by the way,” Michael went on, "It's just... just an inside joke.” Everyone offered light laughter to signify this was the truth, and the guy nodded slowly.

“Alright… so um, where’s the phone?”

“The body is in the study.”

“The body?”

“How did you know about the body?! You must be the murderer!” Michael shouted, and Jim sighed, coming forward and putting his arm around the frightened motorist.

“Sorry man, we’re all a bit jittery tonight. We were hanging out, watching a little Nightmare on Elm Street… you know how it is.”

“Oh sure,” the guy smiled, a little more comforted, and Jim led him into the library.

“So by all means, use the phone, have a drink, and if you’d just wait in here after the call, that’d be amazing.”

“Yeah, okay,” the guy nodded, and Jim closed the door.

“That Michael, is how you don’t blow your cover,” he said, and Pam shared a smile with him.

“Yeah, well…” Michael huffed, “I could’ve done that if Toby hadn’t freaked me out.”

“What did I do?” Toby sighed.

“You were just being you. Please leave.”

Toby sighed, and returned to the study, where he had been reading the dusty 1958 newspaper prop that had been left on the coffee table. "Did you know that milk was only 5 cents back--"

"Did you know that no one cares, Toby? Alright, do we have any idea who did it yet?” Michael groaned, “I am getting seriously hungry.”

“I saved some of the monkey’s brains from dinner, if you--" Dwight began but Michael shook his head.

“No, Dwight, just—no, put it away.”

“We haven’t found anything,” Meredith nudged Kevin.

“Actually, I did. I found an old M&M under a floorboard,” Kevin announced. “A spider had laid eggs in it.”

“Okay, that’s—" Michael rubbed his face, “Wow.”  

“I’m really starting to get scared,” Pam suddenly said. She looked at Jim pointedly, and rubbed her shoulders in over exaggeration. “In fact, I’m terrified. I don’t know if I can defend myself. Ah! Oh no.” His eyes widened, and he stepped in.

“Oh, uh—hey, I think I’ll stick with Pam. Maybe I can switch with Angela?”

“Okay, sure,” Michael muttered dejectedly, and Dwight gasped.

“That’s not fair, you didn’t let me switch when I asked!” Suddenly, he realized what that meant for his new partner. “Oh. Oh, no it’s fine.” He looked over to Angela, but where she would normally look back at him and smile at their good fortune, she was biting her lip, anxiously staring at the library door.

Everyone split up once again, and Dwight quickly hurried down the stairs with Angela. “Perfect luck. Fate is on our side.” When she didn’t respond, he frowned. “Monkey, what’s the matter?”

Angela looked up at him, a new conviction in her eyes. “Do you care for me at all Dwight?”

“Of course. Of course!”

Upstairs, Jim pulled Pam up the last step into the attic. “See that boar head over there?”

“Yeah,” Pam laughed.

“I convinced Dwight it was talking to him.”

“No!”

“It confessed to the murder,” Jim nodded.

“Oh my god, I’m so sad I missed that,” she giggled. Jim licked over his lips, eyes descending to her skirt. It was really, really short… he wasn’t used to seeing Pam wear stuff like this. She noticed him looking, and they held eye contact for a second before Jim rubbed the back of his neck.

“Um, so you guys didn’t find anything?” he asked quickly, feeling a little bad for staring, and Pam turned away too, shaking her head.

“Um, no. And other than the… murderous boar head, you guys didn’t?”

“No,” Jim smiled. “Hey… are you actually scared? You know, that Packer’s dead?”

“I mean,” Pam shrugged, “It’s not the best Friday night ever, getting cooped up in this creepy house with a dead body… but I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this.”

“Yeah…” Jim said slowly, “Yeah, definitely.”

Downstairs, Kevin knelt down to the ground under the lounge floor. “You think there’s more M&Ms under here?” He lifted the same floorboard, and Meredith glanced down.

“Call me when you find some vodka.”

Suddenly, the entire house plunged into darkness. Everyone was shocked into silence, except for a faint “OH MY GOD!” from Michael that everyone heard.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked quietly, raising his eyebrows. Michael felt around in the dark.

“Oh my god…” he repeated, “This is how Stevie Wonder must feel every day.”

“Jim?” Pam asked nervously in the attic.

“I’m here.” He came over, keeping his eyes on the staircase.

Over in the library, the guest spoke on the phone. “Dude, the lights just went out… yeah, this is weird. Anyway, it'll probably go back on. So they all answer the door right, and I do a double take cause I’m like holy shit—I recognized that chick…. no no, that chick I went all night with that time, like full on, she was the best I’d ever had. What was her name? Oh right! It was—"

Just then, a loud crack sounded, and the man fell to the ground, blood seeping from his head into the carpet.

A few moments later, the house lights came back on.

“That was weird,” Phyllis said, looking for her partner. “Oscar?”

“Over here,” he nodded, coming back into the room from the hall. “Super weird.”

“Where were you?” she asked apprehensively.

“I, uh…” He averted her eyes.

Over in the lounge, Kevin frowned. “Meredith?”

“Here!” she came back in, carrying something.

“Where did you go?”

She looked at him, and swallowed.

“Michael,” Ryan hissed, “Michael?” He began to feel anxious, looking behind him. “Michael, did you leave?” Suddenly, he felt hands grab his shoulders from behind.

“Saved your life!” Michael laughed.

“Get off me,” Ryan scowled, walking out of the room.

Everyone filed back down to the main floor to see what happened, and Phyllis stopped at the door of the library, which was open a crack.

“Oh, dear…” she said, and everyone gathered around. Michael took a deep breath as he joined them, and clasped his hands together.

“Everyone, I’d like your attention please.” He looked around sadly. “Toby is dead.”

“No I’m not, I’m right here—"

“Wow, you are all about ruining the fun here, aren’t you?!”

“Will both of you stop?” Pam cut in, “The motorist we let in is dead now too. There are two dead bodies in here, with an actual murderer. This isn’t funny.” Jim looked surprised by the new body.

“Who’d wanna kill this poor guy? He seemed polite enough.” They all looked around.

“Did anyone leave during the blackout?”

“Oscar was gone,” Phyllis spoke up.

“I was startled!” Oscar defended, “I ran out into the hallway to see if I could see the one doing it.”

“Okay uh, I’ll take stories-nobody’s-gonna-believe for 400,” Michael scoffed, and Oscar shot him a withering glare.

 “Well, Meredith was also gone,” Kevin said.

“Hey, I was in the kitchen!” Meredith protested, “I thought I left something there…”

“What about our first suspect, then?” Ryan asked, “Dwight, where were you?”

“In the cellar,” Dwight answered, eyes wide and staring straight ahead. Jim was about to dismiss it, but something was off with the other man.

“Really?”

Dwight took a very long pause, until Angela answered for him. “Yes,” she cut in, staring up at him, “We were together the whole time.”

“Yes we were,” Dwight nodded, “We were together.”

“What were you two _doing_ together?” Jim frowned, folding his arms. Dwight looked at him, sweat trickling down his forehead.

“Alright whatever, we all know it wasn’t Dwight,” Michael said, “Let’s just… focus on the matter at hand, okay? We’ve got two murders on our hands and not enough bodybags for ‘em!” He tried to laugh, but the mood fell flat; tensions were rising.

“Come on, guys,” Toby shook his head, looking down at the body, “This has gotta stop.”  

 **“I don’t know who did it,”** Phyllis told the camera, **“But this whole thing reminds me of spring break back in my fourth year of college.”**

 **“Who did it? I literally have no clue.”** Michael stopped. **“That was not intended to be a pun. I promise.”**

 **“Maybe the motorist killed Packer, then killed himself,”** Kevin told the camera, then stared off, thinking about this.

Michael looked down at the body, gagged, then closed the library door. “Okay, back to your stations.”

“We’re not seriously gonna keep searching the house…?” Jim asked, “I mean… I think it’s pretty obvious it’s not some random person hiding, it’s one of us.”

“Well, I still say better safe than sorry,” Michael nodded, “Because these two poor dead people didn’t have the chance to be safe, they were just… sorry.”

Everyone rolled their eyes and huffed complaints under their breath as they dragged themselves to wherever they had been previous to the power cut.

“Stoppit,” Angela hissed, hitting Dwight on the shoulder. He recoiled, looking behind him to her in the basement.

“Stop what?”

“Stop being so jumpy.”

“Monkey—"

“Don’t monkey me, just do what I do.” Dwight let out a whine, and bit his lip hard. He felt restless.

After about another twenty minutes of fruitless search, everybody heard Michael's loud shout. "AHA!”

Each pair gathered yet again in the foyer, and Michael opened his mouth. “I know _exactly_ who did it.”

“You do?!” they all asked.

“Oh yes,” he nodded. Ryan looked at the camera.

“Here we go.”


	4. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything (?) is explained.

**“As well as being incredibly creative and a pretty awesome boss,”** Michael laughed, **“Well… I hate tooting my own horn, but I think I probably could’ve been a detective for the CIA or something if I didn’t pursue middle management.”**

“All of you arrived at the same time this evening,” Michael explained, “Pam and I took your coats, you all talked for a while, then we went to the dining room.” They all walked over there. “Here, we each sat down… um, wherever we wanted to sit down. We ate some delicious Cantonese meals I ordered in from Fortune Wok, and then I introduced the host! Who is now dead. But he wasn’t dead at this point—living, breathing Todd Packer came in, and I noticed that one of you flinched!”

“Who?” Meredith asked.

“One of you,” Michael nodded, then went on. “Next, we went to the study—" they all moved over across the hall, "—and I revealed all the blackmail information.”

Kevin laughed a little. “That was funny.”

“Oh good, I’m glad you thought so Kevin, because so did the murderer!" Michael said, "So much so that he—OR SHE—decided to kill Packer!”

“That doesn’t make sense…” Pam said softly.

“Okay well it will, Pam, if you’d just give me a chance.” Michael went over to the body. “See the way he fell?”

“What about it?” Oscar asked, looking back up to Michael expectantly. Michael began to nod, and he opened his mouth.

“He fell forcefully enough to knock the table out of the way.”

“So that’s where my champagne glass went,” Kevin said.

“Yeah…” Meredith looked at him, “Yeah, that’s where it went…”

“Now see,” Michael continued, “If a living person had fallen this way, it would have given them a serious concussion and knocked them out, giving them the opportunity to appear dead!”

“So he’s not really dead?” Jim asked, suddenly frowning.

“Oh…” Michael’s eyebrows raised, and he nodded along with this. “Ex-actly! He is still alive, ladies and gentlemen, just watch.” He grabbed the candlestick from the table beside them, and smacked it into Packer’s stomach, sitting him up. “You punked us!” he said into Packer’s ear, “You really did!” Packer’s jaw dropped and his head rolled back, and Michael yelped, letting go. “Alright no, he’s dead.” He got up. “Next, after he died, we all split up. Nobody found anything—or so they said.” He looked around. “Did… did anybody actually find anything?”

A chorus of “ _no_ ”s came out, and Michael sighed. “Fine. So nothing came of that. Then, the motorist came to the door and TOBY let him in! _Why_ would he do that?! Huh?!”

“To be a nice person?” Pam offered.

“No, so he could kill him!” Michael replied.

“I didn’t kill him, Michael,” Toby told him.

“I… I know!” Michael narrowed his eyes, “That was just an old lawyer’s trick, to see if I could trick you.”

“Were you a lawyer?” Kevin asked.

“That doesn't matter, Kevin,” Michael said, “So after that, we went back to searching, and the motorist was killed too. All this in mind, I still know who did it.”

“Who?!”

Michael stared around at everyone, and stopped on one person. “Phyllis.”

“Me?!”

“No, I’m just kidding, I have no idea.”

Everybody groaned, and Oscar sat on the step. “This is a waste of time. We need to call the police.”

“NO!” Dwight shouted, and everyone turned to him. Angela tugged his sleeve, but he just started to unravel. “I have to," he hissed to her, "I have to." He turned back around, nudging his glasses up and pushing his way to the middle of the circle. "Everyone, I have a very solemn announcement to make. We did it. A-Angela and me!”

Jim shook his head at the camera. **“Was not expecting that.”**

“You killed Packer and the motorist?” Meredith asked incredulously.

“No no, just the motorist,” Dwight sobbed, “Oh god, I should be taken out and hung for abetting murder! SOMEBODY GUILLOTINE ME! Michael, please chop my head off and hold it up! Maybe put it on a pike and let it serve as a warning, just as they did in the golden days of absolute rule.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Michael scowled.

Angela stepped out, fiddling with her bracelet. “I killed the motorist. His name was Gary, and he was my ex-boyfriend.” An uproar came from the group, until she went on. “We did awful things together… sinful things. Things I can never forgive myself for.”

“ _Sexual bondage_ ,” Dwight hissed behind his hand, face wet with tears, and Angela stepped on his foot.

“Anyway. Are you all going to turn me over?” she asked nervously.

"Uh, yes?" Oscar scoffed, heading for the door already.

“No, no, first thing’s first,” Michael blocked the front door, a little shaken, “You two _didn’t_ kill Packer?”

“No,” they both said, looking away.

“Huh,” Michael mused. “Well, it’s your business what you want to do with your ex-boyfriend, I’m not getting involved with domestic disputes. We’re going to stack the bodies in the cellar, and leave.”

“What?” Toby asked, dumfounded.

“And you are finally going to call the police, Toby, saying you came in here and found all this. We had nothing to do with anything.”

“Our fingerprints are all over the place,” Toby said, already getting a headache.

“Then… I don’t know, say we came in for a good evening, did our team building exercise, and left. Then this happened!”

“Michael, there are so many holes in that testimony, there's no way I can-"

“Deal with it, you’re human resources, that’s what you do.”

“We don’t normally deal with dead people, it’s normally living people we talk to, but…"

“I’ll see you all on Monday at 9:00!” Michael shouted, swallowing nervously.

"But we still don't know who killed--"

"Goodnight!" Micheal then grabbed his jacket, dashing out. Everyone else stood there, everything sinking in.

“So who’s stacking the bodies?” Meredith asked. Kevin dashed for the door. 


	5. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the office...

On Monday, everyone was strangely quiet. Kelly immediately attacked Ryan with questions and a line by line transcript of every tv show he missed on Friday night, and all he could do was stare silently. As people began to file in to the office, Creed turned around in his chair.

“Hey, everybody! How was the zoo?”

 **"I don't know what's gotten into everybody,"** Stanley said, **"But I'm just glad I wasn't there to see what they saw. I assume it wasn't good."** He looked over at Michael. **"Nothing that man does ever is."**

 **“I… honestly don’t know what to write here,”** Pam showed the blank activity log for Friday night that she was supposed to give to Jan to the camera.

 **“We’re referring to it now as that day we murdered a bunch of people then forgot about it.”** Jim smiled, shaking his head. **“Nah, we're not.”**

 **“I’d say the evening was a _smash_ _hit_!”** Michael grinned at the camera, **“Really hit the _target_! What a _knock-out_!” ** He wiped his eyes, and sighed. **“Aw, no… but honestly. If you wanna know who killed Packer?”** he smirked, slicking his hair back in preparation to quote the movie that started this whole situation. **“I did. In the hall. With the revolver. Now I’m gonna go home and sleep with my wife.”**

 **“Yeah, I killed Packer,”** Jim said.

Back in Michael's office, he kept staring at the camera, sucking in his cheekbones and posing like a movie star, until he got bored. "It'll all blow over," he assured, "It's all been taken care of, no worries _mahn_."

His phone started to ring, and he stared down at it in mortal fear.  

END


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